Magpie
by Bluegj
Summary: She would never again see the hidden streaks of colour in his black and white world. D/G one shot


A/N- just a quick one shot. I do not own the harry potter series.

He stood, the weak morning light streaming through the wisps of clouds, catching the faint drizzle of rain, reflecting of the still water of the lake. He had never seen anything more beautiful. He wanted to capture it, take it for himself. He wanted to come back whenever he wanted.

He didn't want the twisted, dark world he lived in. He didn't want the complicated spider's web he was caught in. He didn't want it; none of it.

He watched as a bird, black and white, glided over the surface of the lake, skimming the water in the shadows of the trees. It flew up and out, the sun catching blue and green streaks in its wings. It was a magpie.

He watched as it swooped back into the trees, having not found what it was after. What was he after? The fine mist of rain finally fell upon him and it clung to him. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. The rain made his cheeks damp and he knew that anyone looking would dismiss the tears sliding down his face for rain.

Oh, how he wanted to be somewhere else. Maybe, if he left, he would find someone who would like him, love him, for who he was, not the Death Eater he hid behind. He was so scared. Scared to be himself, scared not to be.

He knew how they saw him, what they thought of him, what she thought of him. None of them denied it, they accepted it, admitted it. They thought he was an angel of darkness, but couldn't they see he wanted to do what was right? That he was tired of people seeing his ice blond hair and thinking it reflected his ice cold heart?

The tears slid hot and fast and he knew that if she could see him now that she wouldn't understand. Wouldn't understand him. She thought he was a monster, the bad guy. Which he was. He was always the bad guy.

He lifted his arms up, spreading them wide, imagining he was a bird that could take flight and fly away. He wanted to escape.

She knew she was there before he heard her. There was a shift in his universe, a little light that flashed on saying _she's here_. He heard the pebbles shift beneath her feet and then fall silent as she stopped in front of him. He said nothing and she reciprocated the gesture.

He kept his arms lifted and his eyes closed. He wanted to see that fiery hair, but to look would be to show her the weakness in his eyes and she could not see that. Could never see that. If she saw, her heart would open to him, and as much as she already owned his, he was not responsible enough to look after hers. It was too beautiful, too fragile, and it he would break it. He would not want to, but he would. He knew he would.

She was close enough to see the tears running down his face, he knew, and if he had to guess, he would say she was crying too. She was always so in touch with everyone's emotions, she always cared too much.

He heard the cry of a bird and the magpie came to his mind, it's hidden colours only revealed under the shining sun. Did it see her hair and think of a blood red ruby? Did it see her skin and think of the smoothest pearl? Did it see her smile and think of the brightest star?

He wanted to open his eyes, but that would be to admit, and to admit would be to fail. If he failed his father, he would fail her. She would be hurt because of him. He could never hurt her, he would never allow her to be hurt because of him.

He felt her hand on his face, feather light. It traced his cheek, his lips and he felt his body quiver.

He knew she was thinking of that night he had allowed himself to be free, to show who he was. Thinking of how he had cherished those moments alone with her, because she was too scared to run. And then, she hadn't wanted to. He denied them both what they wanted, that very last moment to look at each other, because if he did, he would always be wondering what they could have been.

He felt her breath on his cheek, her lips brushing across his in the most chaste, most desperately despairing manner of a kiss. Then she was gone, leaving him alone in the rain to cry by himself. He heard her walk away, her footsteps slowly dying into an oppressive nothingness.

He was like the magpie, he realised. Attracted to the spark inside her, wanting her heart so very desperately. But she saw him as a thief, something to be avoided. He had made sure of that. She would never again see the hidden streaks of colour in his black and white world that only she could bring out.


End file.
